All I Can Give
by SilverChocolate
Summary: One of the feel good stories of the season. Four different love stories intertwined together, all people discovering love in different ways - finding out that Love is all that they can give...(pls rr)
1. Tuna

**All I Can Give…**

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**Summary:** I'd like to call this the "feel good story of the season." Four different love stories, intertwined together. About love, sorrow, and passion. Heartbreaks, happy endings, sad endings… these different people embark on life changing experiences, and find out that all they can give is, well, love.

**Rating:** PG-13

**Chapter One: Tuna**

"I – I can't," she muttered to herself, hiding her face behind her hands. "This is too painful." Helga looked up at the ceiling and clutched her hands. "Oh wretched pain of love, why doth thou torture me so?"

The doorbell rang, and she straightened up, running her hands down her skirt. She inhaled deeply, and let out a short breath. The doorbell rang again. "Hold _on_!" she shouted, walking to the door.

There was a UPS man at the door and smiled. "Hello Miss. Can you sign for this package?" He was wearing a green poncho on top of his brown uniform.

"..Sure." Helga smiled and signed a metal rectangle box. He handed her the wet large brown package and walked away.

"Hmm…" she wondered, looking at the box. _To Miriam_ it said. She shook it. There was no sound. "Oh, whatever," she mumbled. "MIRIAM!" she shouted. "PACKAGE FOR YOU!"

"THANKS HON!" a drowsy voice shouted back.

Helga murmured to herself as he walked up the stairs to her room.

At such a tender age of 16, Helga was not the most beautiful in the world, but she had her charms. Oh, yes, she had her pretty blue eyes, and she was very lovely in pink. The last thing she wanted was to live life in sorrow like her parents who were never quite as happy as they used to be. The only thing she really wanted was love. To love and be loved…by the only person she has ever wanted.

With that last thought in mind, she locked herself in her room and turned off the lights and listened to the raindrops hit the roof.

Miriam walked out to the entrance hallway and saw the moist brown package that lay on the ground. She bent down and picked it up lazily. What could it be? She thought. With a slight thrill of excitement, she tore the tape off and opened the two brown flaps to reveal…a pot. And a cookbook.

She found a card inside and opened it.

_Miriam,  
Hope you like the pot. Maybe you can learn to make some descent food.   
-Bob   
P.S. Happy Anniversary_

Is this it? She thought. She made him his favorite breakfast. She gave him what he wanted last night in bed. And this was it?! A pot? With…a cookbook? She angrily threw the package at the door and groaned. "Piece of CRAP…" When was the last time that he considered her feelings? When was the last time they kissed and actually had feeling behind it? When was the last time he gave her roses?

…The last time he said "I love you"…

Miriam couldn't bare it any longer and walked into the kitchen to make a smoothie.

Helga heard the noise downstairs and groaned. She walked towards her door in the dark and slammed her shin into her old toy chest at the bottom of her bed. "Ouch. Crimeny!" She fell over on the ground and crawled over to her light switch and flipped it "on".

She cradled her leg and saw a large ugly bruise forming right smack in the middle. "Aw, crap."

Gerald sat around the house. Luckily he didn't have to deal with Jamie-O anymore since he was already in college. It really was a miracle that someone like him could have gotten into college. Gerald considered it a gift from God that he was relieved of his awfulness.

The phone rang. He lunged to the phone and picked it up. "Hello?"

"Hi Gerald."

"Phoebe," he said with a very satisfied tone of voice. "I was thinking of you…"

"Me too. You know, there's a new movie out called Smoochie Kiss. Do you want to go?"

"Of course. I'd go anywhere with you," he said with his creamy voice.

"Well," she said briskly, "I suppose we can make it a date on Saturday?"

"Definitely."

"Great." She paused. "See you later, then."

"See ya."

He hung up. Angrily, he groaned and slammed his head into the wall. They had been in a relationship for the past year and a half. Still, he could not even get close to uttering those three little words which lingered on his lips. Phoebe told him once, but he couldn't reply. He lied that he just wasn't ready for that step. He used that excuse for the last six months.

Phoebe, being the timid girl she was, just let it slide. Not letting her appearance show any sign of heart ache.

Gerald grumpily picked up his phone and hastily dialed seven digits.

"Arnold." He said flatly.

"Gerald," a voice cracked. Arnold cleared his throat. "What's with the phone call? It's Friday afternoon. Aren't you supposed to be out somewhere? Like on a date with your girlfriend?"

"Naw, man. Not today."

There was silence.

"So, did you call just to hear me breathe? Or do you have a problem?" Arnold wondered. He was picking up some socks lying around on the floor of his bedroom. He took a sniff of one pair and instantly threw them into the hamper.

"I guess I have a problem."

"Is it Phoebe?" Gerald didn't answer. "Oh c'mon Gerald. Why else would you call? You couldn't have possibly called me to go out and play baseball. The weather is too bad to play baseball…"

"It's just…I don't know. Do you think I should say those words to her?"

"What words?"

"You know…" he said uneasily.

"I do?" Arnold said, throwing a random shirt into the hamper.

"I love you…" he croaked.

"Aw, Gerald. That's sweet," Arnold chuckled.

"Seriously, Arnold!"

"Okay, okay." Arnold took a seat on his bed. "So, tell her. I mean, if you managed to say those words to me, I'm sure that you have enough guts to say it to her."

"What if something goes wrong? I mean, how can I tell if it's real? What if right after I tell her I end up breaking up with her? You know? How can you be sure?" Gerald complained.

Arnold shrugged. "I don't know. I guess that's the way love is," he said. "You're never sure. Unless you're sure."

"That made no sense at all."

"Love doesn't make sense, Gerald. It just doesn't."

"I could've figured that out myself." Gerald groaned. "Look, I gotta go. I gotta start dinner. Or something."

Arnold's ear filled with the sound of the ring tone. He turned off his cell phone and tossed it next to him on the bed. He leaned back on his cushiony bed, and stared out his large glass roof and admired the rain streaming down the angled glass.

He rubbed his eyes and tucked his hands into the pockets of his blue and white striped basketball shorts. Then he fell asleep with dreams of sugar plum fairies in his head. (Haha) At 8:00 PM he woke up and rubbed his eyes. The sky outside was still dark, but the rain stopped. He sat up in his bed and stretched out his arms.

His stomach grumbled and he decided to go downstairs for a snack. So he walked down the stairs to the kitchen.

"Hey shortman," greeted Grandpa. "You slept through dinner. You want something to eat? I saved some nice chili for you. And half roll." He shoved a plate in front of Arnold's face. It was really weird that Grandpa would call Arnold shortman, considering he was already taller than him.

"Sure, Grandpa." Arnold took the plate and sat down on the table as Grandpa handed him a fork. "Thanks." Arnold put a lot of pasta in his mouth and happily chewed.

"Hungry, eh?"

Arnold nodded and took a large bite of the roll.

"Whaddya think of Rome?"

"Ohm?" Arnold repeated with his mouth full. He gulped down the last few bits of his food down his throat. "Yeah…it's nice."

"I was thinking of taking your Grandma with me. You know?"

"Oh. Right! For your anniversary…when is it again? Coming soon, right?"

"The day before Valentine's Day. Isn't it amazing, that after forgetting anniversary dates for over 40 years, I finally remember it." He grinned. "Now I'm going to make it special."

"Why? Is it your 50th? Like a special milestone?" Arnold asked excitedly.

Grandpa shook his head. "I lost track after the first one, Short man."

In came Grandma wearing her regular green dress.

"Hi Pookie," said Grandpa. "Where have you been?"

"Just in the room. Resting," she said calmly, pouring herself a glass of water. Arnold had noticed her personality turn normal through the years. It was a very subtle change, but still a change nevertheless.

Arnold watched as she tried to pick up her glass. It almost seemed like her hand was gently trembling – struggling with picking it up. Still, she managed to pick it up and sip lightly from it, and then it slipped from her grasp, crumbling and shattering on the tile floor beneath her.

"Oh, dear," she mumbled, bending down to pick some big pieces up.

"Wait! Grandma, let me…" Arnold took his napkin and bent down next to Grandma as she straightened up, with her hand on her hip. He looked up at her as he picked up the stray pieces.

"Thanks, Arnold."

"Anytime, Grandma." He gathered all the pieces together and threw them away into the trashcan.

"I'm going back upstairs now," she said and began to walk out of the kitchen.

Arnold's eyes followed her as she walked out of sight. He approached Grandpa, and put his hand on the table. "Is Grandma okay?"

"Yeah. As far as I know she's good. But on the other hand," he heard his stomach bubbling. "I need to check into the office. See you later, short man!" he took a rolled up newspaper and ran out of the kitchen.

Arnold decided to take a walk outside. He whistled. "C'mere Abner…"

In came Abner running quickly and stopped at his feet and oinked joyfully.

"How would you like to go on a walk, huh?" Arnold patted his thigh and Abner followed him to the front door where Arnold put the leash on his collar and he put on his jacket from the coat rack. "I'll let you rummage through a garbage can."

"Damnit, B!" Miriam cursed. "I just…"

"Just what? What Miriam?" Bob replied angrily. "I spent a good thirty bucks on that pot. You'd better put it to good use."

"I don't even know why I bother trying to talk to you! You're always so preoccupied with your stupid TV and – and PORK RINES!" She shouted.

"Hey! I listen! I do my part around this job, unlike you Miriam. What do you do for this family? Huh? Just sit around and make SMOOTHIES? For Christ's sake…"

Helga stopped writing in her diary and slammed her purple pen on the table. "Crimeny! Can't I ever get any peace and quiet around in this house?" She walked out of her room and her stomach growled. "And what happened to dinner?"

"MOOOOM!"

No one answered. Helga ran down the stairs and shouted again over her parents' arguing. "MIRIAM!"

"Not now Helga," she snapped back quickly. She and Bob continued to gripe about each other. Helga was fed up and felt a few dollar bills in her jean pocket. She took it out and counted 12 dollars. Good enough for a hamburger.

She took a jacket from the coat rack and put it on irritatedly. "I'm GOING!"

She walked down her stoop, with her hands in her pink jacket's pockets. The weather outside was fresh and chilly. Helga enjoyed this kind of weather because it gave her a reason to buy more clothes and it gave her a great inspiration. Rainy days always made her freshly inspired with poems.

Taking her sweet time, she casually walked across the slick sidewalk passing the flower shop, passing the other shops, and then stopping in front of a small deli. Inside, she was greeted by a fat man with silver hair.

"What would you like?" he asked.

"Um, well, I guess a tuna fish sandwich will be good."

"Right away!" So he began to fix a tuna sandwich for her. "Wheat or white?"

"Sourdough." She said plainly.

"Would you like everything in it?"

"Yeah. Hold the pickles, and add extra onions."

In a snap, the man finished the sandwich and wrapped it nicely in paper. "Here ya go. Anything else?"

"Um, no."

"That will be five dollars." He put out his hand, and Helga put five dollars in his palm. "Thank you! Come again!"

Helga walked out of the door and took a bite of his tuna sandwich. She had a very satisfied feeling once the first bite hit her stomach. It felt as if a little bit of heaven had dropped down in her mouth. She didn't know how hungry she was until she realized she was scarfing down her sandwich. "Mmm," she murmured, slightly licking her fingers clean.

Her onion breath traveled with the wind.

Abner, with the scent of a hound, eagerly tracked down this scent of onions which he loved so much and quickly led Abner, with Arnold following, to Helga's onionness. Suddenly, she was knocked over by a big pink pig, and fell hard on the sidewalk. She should have been able to see it coming, considering the loud trotting noise that approached her and the round pink thing running at the speed of light towards her.

"Ack," she shouted, trying to get Abner off of her. He was licking her face and oinking like crazy. He was pinning her down. She couldn't get him off.

Then there was suddenly a loud whistle, following a sharp "Abner!". The pig got off of her and circled around the tall figure towering above her.

She gacked and sat up on the ground.

"Here, let me help you up," he said, offering a hand. She took his hand and he pulled her up to his body.

"I only have one thing to ask," she said. "Why the hell did your pig attack me?" she growled.

Arnold sniffed the air. "Well, I think he thought you were made of onions or something." He chuckled. "Abner loves onions, don't you Abner?" The pig oinked in happiness.

Helga closed her mouth. Why did I ask for extra onions?, she thought miserably.

"So you like onions, I guess?"

"I guess." Her right foot circled around the sidewalk, looking away from Arnold's amazing eyes. "What are you doing out all by yourself?"

Helga shrugged. "I was hungry…and Miriam and Bob started biting each others' heads off. So it was kind of crazy."

Arnold nodded with understanding.

"What about you Arnoldo? What are you doing out here?"

"Just taking Abner out for a walk. Just to clear my mind, ya know?"

"Actually, no. I don't…" she said. Actually, yes. I do, she corrected herself in her mind. She drew in a deep breath, eager for a chance to escape, slowly changing the subject. "I guess I'd better get goin'."

"Would you like some company?" he asked very casually.

"Uh, whatever floats your boat…" she mumbled. "Just don't walk too close to me. I don't want people thinking we're walking together or anything."

"Of course, Helga." He grinned and they began to walk.

She put her hands in her jacket pockets, feeling quite out of place.

"How are things going with you?" Arnold asked. "It seems like it's been forever since the last time we've spoken to each other."

"Things are just okay, I guess," she shrugged. "Nothing really new is going on. What about with you? How is…er…life?"

"Life is life. There's no way to describe it."

"That's something to ponder." She chuckled. "I was thinking you'd say something more around the lines of, 'Life is wonderful. It's so full of optimism. There is nothing that can get it down!' You know, now that I think of it – you've got it made."

"I've got it made? What do you mean?" He arched his left eyebrow and looked at her strangely.

"I mean that you're on the varsity baseball team, all your teachers love you, you've got these grandparents that love you…"

"Please," Arnold put out his hand to Helga. "Don't even say it. I hate it when people say that kind of stuff to me. It just…sickens me."

"It sickens you?" Helga repeated in amazement. "Sickens you? To be perfect?"

"I'm far from perfect. You're closer than I am."

"What?" She looked at him and stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. Her ears heated up and she tried to hide it with her hands.

"Are your ears cold or something?" He wondered, looking at her cover her ears with her hands.

"No. Just, ugh, mind your own business!" she snapped back. She abhorred her automatic ways of pushing people away. She tried to fix it, but she couldn't. It was just that, it was hard for her to get close to someone – anyone.

Arnold looked away. "Well, here's your stop."

Helga looked across the street to see her house. "Oh. Yeah."

"Bye then." He walked away.

Helga groaned and stomped her right foot on the sidewalk. _Why? Why must I always push him away?_, she thought.

**A/N:** Hope you all can review!!!


	2. Don't Know Why

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**A/N:** Thanks for tuning in to this second chapter of "All I Can Give". Please have a nice time! 

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**Chapter Two: Don't Know Why **

Arnold got home and put his coat on the coat rack once he stepped into the house. He unleased Abner and let him run free around the house. 

"Hey Arnold," greeted Mr. Potts from the kitchen. 

"Hey Mr Potts. Uh, do you know where my grandparents are?" He asked curiously, looking around the living room and kitchen. 

"Eh, beats me." He shrugged. "I'm just here getting somethin' to drink." 

Arnold nodded. "Well, good night, then." 

"`Night, Arnold." 

Arnold ran up the flight of stairs and heard the noise of Oskar and Suzie, arguing about money again. He heard Mr. Hyuen listening to the asian radio again. He passed by Grandpa's office, which was empty. He passed by the room where all of the old books and stuff were, and it was empty. Usually it was filled with the old music of Dino Spimoni or Grandpa would be laughing at the TV. Not tonight. 

A surgence of worry overwhelmed Arnold suddenly. Who was he to worry, anyway? After all, he wasn't the parent looking over the child or anything. As a matter of fact, he shouldn't have to worry. Did he have any reason to worry? No…

A loud cough came from Grandpa and Grandma's room. There was a small crack between the door and the room, and Arnold peered into the darkness. "Grandma?" he wondered. 

"Move over, Short man," said Grandpa suddenly, out of breath. He had his jacket on, and was carrying a small brown bag. 

"Wh-what's going on?" Arnold questioned, with more worry building up in the pit of his stomach. 

"Nothing…just go to your room, eh?" Grandpa said, pushing Arnold slightly outside the door. Arnold felt like a little kid, being pushed around in a crowd full of adults. He didn't like the way adults tried to hide things from kids. Of course, little kids didn't know any better, but Arnold wasn't a little kid anymore. He was near an adult. He knew something was going on – and it hurt that he wasn't let in on the secret. 

Instead, he was just pushed away. 

He stood around the door, after Grandpa closed it behind him. He pressed his ear against the wooden door and listened carefully. 

***

"I'm home," Helga said loudly, closing the door behind her. "Not that anyone would care," she muttered under her breath. 

"Hello?" She walked passed the trophy room to see Big Bob asleep in his chair, the TV left on some stupid reality show. Well, now that I've found Bob… "Mom?" She walked into the kitchen. Empty. 

She walked upstairs and looked in their bedroom. No Miriam. "Miriam?" she asked one last time. This is strange, she thought, usually Miriam would be asleep on the kitchen counter or at least asleep in her own bed…

"Daadd!" Helga shouted, running down the stairs. It's not like she cared where Miriam was. It's just that she was curious…

"Dad!" Helga said sternly, shaking Bob in his chair. "Get up!" 

"What? Is it morning?" He grunted, waving his hand at Helga for her to get her hands off him. 

"Miriam's missing," she said. "Where'd she go?" 

"How the hell should I know?" he replied with anger. "Now go upstairs and do your homework or something." 

***

"Gerald, I've been thinking," began Phoebe. The two of them were waiting in line at the concession stand in the movie theatre. 

"Yeah?" he wondered, moving up in the line. 

"Well…" her voice trailed off when a red haired boy asked Gerald, "How can I help you?" 

"Yeah, um, one box of raisinettes, and a medium bag of popcorn, and one large coke." 

"Gerald," Phoebe said again with a big of frustration. 

"Oh, sorry, Phoebe, what would you like?" 

Pheobe sighed. "Nothing; nothing at all." She walked away from the concession stand and stood in front of their movie room and crossed her arms. Gerald followed her shortly, carrying all of his snack items. Pheobe opened the door for him and they searched for a seat. Once they sat down, Gerald began to start munching on his snacks. 

"Gerald, we have to talk," Phoebe whispered. 

"About what?" Gerald asked uncomfortably. He knew what was coming…it haunted him repeatedly day and night. His sweaty palms gripped the plastic arm rests. 

"I really don't think that things are moving like I want them to," she began. He could feel the hurt in her voice. Suddenly the lights dimmed. As she tried to say some more, Gerald shushed her. 

"The movie's starting," he whispered, sinking down in his seat. He was saved from this agony for another 2 hours. Two more hours of torture. Not because the movie was Smoochie Kiss, but because he would have to dread every second until Pheobe gives him "the talk". He had never felt so uncomfortable since…since…never. 

Well, maybe since that time he wore that strawberry costume in the fourth grade and didn't wear anything underneath. That was certainly uncomfortable for him. 

Every five minutes or so, he glanced over at Pheobe. She was so lovely to him. He loved her black hair, and her peach colored skin. He loved the way she would cuddle up close to him when it was snowing and they were on the bus. 

The movie came to an end. It was the longest two hours Gerald ever had to live through. He knew what was coming…but he had to get out of it. Someway, somehow. 

They held hands as they walked out of the theatre. "Nice movie, huh?" Gerald said. 

"Yeah. It was certainly nice," she replied with her soft voice. Her fingers slipped through Gerald's and let go of his hand all together. "Now, seriously, Gerald," she said very sharply. 

Gerald gulped. A cold sweat ran down his face. You can either take this as a man or run like a cat, Gerald thought. He decided that he would take it as a man. He looked down at his feet. "I think…I gotta go," he mumbled. 

"You 'gotta go'?" Pheobe repeated miserably. "But, why?" 

"Just, uh, I promised to pick up some stuff for my mom. Yeah, that's right. Stuff from Mr. Green's shop." 

"Oh." 

"I mean, I can still walk you home," he offered. 

"No. It's perfectly fine. Just go run your errands," she said, followed by a sigh. 

"Thanks. See you later," he kissed her briefly on the lips and ran off. Okay, so he decided to be a cat and a coward and run away. Literally. Though, the snow kind of slowed him down. 

Pheobe felt slightly relieved that he had to go. It temporarily delayed her pain. She just couldn't handle Gerald anymore. Why couldn't he express what he felt to her? Was it so hard? Was it, really? She put her hands in her sweater pockets and walked across the street, being careful not to slide on the slick ice. 

Gerald called his mom on his cell phone and asked her if she wanted anything from Mr. Green's shop. It wasn't a problem, really. He couldn't lie to Pheobe. So, if his mom did tell him to buy something from Mr. Green, then it wouldn't be like he was purposely running away from her. It would be like he had to. Besides, he was already in front of Mr. Green's shop. 

"Hi Gerald!" Mr Green greeted, after hearing the chime ring on the door. 

"Hey Mr Green," he smiled back. 

"What can I do for you?" 

"Can I get a pound of beef and three feet of sausage links?" 

"Right away!" He began to take out those items and wrap them. "So, how are you and Pheobe doing?" 

"Fine, fine." He smiled and nodded. 

Mr Green gave him the wrapped meats. "Should I add this to your mom's tab?" 

"Yeah. Great. Thanks." Gerald pushed the door open and walked outside in the bitter cold air. The wind blew through his large hair and he began to walk home. Too bad he couldn't drive. Or else things would be a lot easier and warmer for him. 

Stupid Jamie-O, he thought constantly. He was off in college, and took the car with him. Gerald was supposed to get Jamie-O's old car. That's the way it was supposed to be. But stupid Jamie-O went to a community college near home. Thus, he stayed home and kept the car. It's not like his mom and dad would buy Gerald a new car. 

Stupid luck. 

***

"`Morning, Helga!" Miriam said brightly that day, dusting the shelves in the trophy room. She was singing an old song. It was 12:00 noon. Helga had never seen Miriam awake at this time before. Well, at least not consciously awake. 

"Um, Hi," Helga replied. "Where's Bob?" 

"He went to buy a new white belt and such. So, hey," she turned around and put her hands on her hips. "Are ya hungry?" 

"Yeah," said Helga in a sarcastic sort of tone. "But it's okay, you don't have to do anything. I can just…" 

"Nonsense, Helga! I've already made you a nice pastrami sandwich in the kitchen!" Miriam jumped off her step stool and kind of skipped into the kitchen. Helga followed. What an unusual mood for Miriam. 

Helga sat down at the kitchen table. She was ready for the worst. She was ready to jump out of there when or if the pastrami sandwich suddenly:

a) Jumps up at her   
b) Grows hair; or…  
c) Has slime coming out of it. 

Okay, she was ready. Bring it on, she thought. "Here ya go!" Miriam said happily, putting a plate with a sandwich in front of her. Helga inspected the sandwich suspiciously. It was unusually normal. She took a sniff. No strange scent. It seemed like Miriam knew what she was doing after all. "Go ahead, take a bite." 

Helga closed her eyes and took a bite of the sandwich. Miraculously, it was not too bad. In fact, some might have even said it was tasty. "And drink this!" She put a glass of Orange Juice next to Helga. "Fresh squeezed!" 

"So," mumbled Helga. "What brings this new Miriam here?" 

"Well, you're, what, thirteen…" 

"Sixteen, Mom." 

"Oh. Right. Sixteen. Well, you're sixteen, and I just felt that you deserve more. And when's a better time to start than now? Hm?" 

"Well…" Helga murmered under her breath. It would have been nice if you did this seven years ago. 

"So I vowed to be a better mom to you." She smiled. "Would you like anything else to eat? I'm sure I can whip something up…" 

"No. Really, it's fine." 

The doorbell rang. "Oh, that must be for me!" Miriam pulled her hand through her hair and moved her hands down her purple dress and looked at herself. "Whaddya think?" 

"You look nice," said Helga. 

"Great. Now I'm going to go. If your father comes home, tell him I'm out to see Grandma." She smiled and took her purse and just left. 

"Right," Helga muttered to herself. She felt a vibration on her hip. She took out her cell phone. "Hellllo?" 

"Hi Helga," said the sweet, innocent voice of Pheobe. 

"Hey Phebes, what's goin on?" She leaned on the table and rubbed her eyes. 

"I'm just feeling a little under the weather," she sighed softly. 

"Under the weather?" Helga repeated. "So you're going to cancel your date with Gerald? It's such a shame, really. I heard Smoochie Kiss was one hell of a movie…" 

"No, I'm not canceling the date, Helga," said Pheobe. "It's just that I can't break up with him." 

"I didn't realize you were this serious about breaking up with him, Pheobe." 

"I'm sort of reluctant to be doing this so close to the holidays though," she sighed gently. 

"Yeah, that's true. But, well, I guess if you have to do it, then you have to do it." 

"Thanks, Helga. I'll talk to you later." Pheobe hung up. Helga shrugged and walked out to the living room and peered out the window to see the first snowfall of the season. Which was quite awkward after all the weird weather they've been having. It should have come earlier. It just should've. 

***

"It's a swell time to go riding in a one horse sleigh," Helga sang to herself. "That's the jingle bell rock…" Shaking her hips slightly from side to side, walking down the hall. 

"Would you like to do that?" 

"What?" she asked surprisingly. 

"Would you like to go for a ride in a one horse sleigh?" Arnold asked her. 

"Yeah, that would be nice," she smiled. 

With a snap of his fingers, a glittering white sleigh with one magnificent white stallion appeared before her very eyes. She looked over at Arnold for reassurance, and there he was – dressed in a tuxedo, holding out his white gloved hand to her. She put her hand in his, realizing she was wearing a glamorous blue gown. 

He assisted her up on the velvet seats. Off they went, trotting through the park. She put her hand in his coat pocket and rested her head on his shoulder. He put his left arm around her and muttered, "You're wonderful, Helga…" 

Then, of course, Helga woke up to the sound of her alarm clock. 

"Crimeny," she groaned. 

***

Arnold hadn't been able to sleep in two nights. It was incredible how long Grandpa could keep a secret from Arnold. 

"Hey Arnold," said Helga, passing by him in the street. 

"Hi Helga," he replied drearily. "What's up?" 

"You look kinda tired," she said with compassion. "What's been up with you?" 

He shrugged. "I just haven't been able to get much sleep lately, that's all." 

"That's a shame," she said. "So, what are you doing for Christmas?" 

"Nothing much. I'm buying some gifts right now, actually. Care to join me?" 

"What? And be seen with you? I don't think so…" she chuckled. 

"Suit yourself," he mumbled, walking away. 

Helga sighed. "Look, Arnold," she said loudly, causing him to stop mid step and look back at her. "It's the season of giving…and I just wanted to say that I just really don't ---," she drew in her breath. 

"Yyeeaahhh?"

"I just really don't like it." She folded her arms.  

"What? You don't like Christmas? Come on now," he grinned. "Surely there is a good reason for this?" 

"No real interesting reason," Helga lied.

"Seriously. You just don't like Christmas? Just because?" 

Helga groaned and stomped her foot. "If you must know, it's because my sister Olga always stole the show. It's supposed to be a time for family and all that, but whenever Olga played her piano, or whatever, my parents just forgot I was there. Then all of a sudden she's off in college, coming back, talking about her wonderful life and crap…

"It just never felt very warm to me. It was always a time I was shut out from my own family." She drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I can't believe I admitted that to anyone." 

"Me neither," Arnold chuckled. 

"But at least this Christmas is going to be a little better. Olga is off in foreign exchange whatever and she won't be coming home for any holiday." She grinned. 

"And that makes you happy? To not be with family?" Before she knew it, they were walking together in the little "winter wonderland." 

"It's not that…well, okay, maybe it is that a little bit. But, I just never really felt the warmth of family. Not truly." 

"That's pretty sad." 

She sniffled. "Yeah. I guess. I mean, still, we get family time and all. So, you know, it's not too bad. It's not like I'd rather be anywhere else. After all, it is my family. And I'm stuck with them. Through thick and thin. No matter what I think of them." 

Arnold just nodded. "Are you cold, Helga?" 

"What do you mean? Cold-hearted? Cold-blooded?" 

"Just cold. In general. Like, freezing? Because your nose is kind of red and you've been sniffling a lot." 

"Oh," she said dully. "Yeah. I suppose I am a little bit chilly." 

With those words, he unraveled his scarf from his neck and put it around Helga, tying it in the front. "There ya go." He grinned. 

"T-thanks…" She smiled softly to show her appreciation. 

"I never realized," he said, "that you have really nice blue eyes." 

She quickly looked down at her shoes. "So, do you like Christmas?" She said, changing the subject. 

Arnold turned his head to the left and nodded – forgetting that he fell in love with Helga Pataki's blue eyes. The two of them continued to walk down the street. "Christmas is the most wonderful time of the year. I love it." 

"It's also the most superficial time of the year," she corrected. 

"True. But, it's not because of the gifts I get. It's because of the gifts I can give people. I just love seeing people happy, and I like to know that I'm the one who made them happy." 

"That seems pretty cocky to me," she chuckled. 

"What? Cocky?" Arnold repeated, slightly shocked. "Bite your tongue." 

"Haha, yeah. Cocky!" She laughed. "I mean, you want to seem like the best – like you do everything so well and bring everyone so much joy…" 

"I call that having a gold-heart." 

"Well, you know, I call it being cocky." 

With that, Arnold playfully shoved Helga. She smiled and chuckled. They continued to talk and walk down the road until they reached the shopping center. Helga gave in to Arnold's quirky charms and started her Christmas shopping with him. 

"What is the one thing you want for Christmas, Helga?" Arnold asked randomly. 

You, she thought. She shrugged. "Not sure. Maybe some new boots. What about you?" 

"Just for my grandma to be okay." 

"What's wrong with your grandma?" She asked cautiously. 

Arnold shrugged his shoulders and gave a restless chuckle. "Funny, huh? I don't even know what's wrong. All I know is that she's sick. And there's not much else I know." 

**A/N: **Thanks. Please read and review. If I don't get the next chapter up by/before Christmas, I wish you all a HAPPY HOLIDAY SEASON! Hehe.  


	3. Are You Listening?

**A/N:** Please read! J And, uhm, yeah. It's kinda corny. But, oh well. You guys like that kind of stuff, right? 

****

****

**Chapter Three: Are You Listening?**

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"I'm going to surprise her," said Gerald excitedly. "I've got this bracelet for her – ya know, maybe this will change things around for us." 

"What kind of bracelet?" Arnold asked curiously. 

"A silver tennis bracelet. Engraved underneath is a heat with her name and mine. I've been saving since forever. Plus I borrowed money from my mom." 

"Nice. You're really getting a hang of this sensitivity stuff," Arnold chuckled. "But what sucks is that she's leaving. For vacation in Japan today. Remember?" 

"I know. I'm going to go before she leaves and then surprise her. Even though it's the day after Christmas, I'm pretty sure that she'll appreciate it." 

"Hey, Gerald, what time does her flight leave?" 

"One o' clock I think." 

"And, what time is it now?" 

Gerald looked at his watch. "HOLY --- it's 11:30. Gotta go!" He quickly hung up the phone and ran off. 

He dashed out of his room and out of the house, taking a scarf on the way out and quickly wrapped it around his neck. As fast as he could, he trudded through the layer of snow left over from Christmas.  

By 11:45 he was in front of Pheobe's house. He drew in a deep breath. Before he even knocked on the door, it opened. "Hi there Gerald," Pheobe's mom greeted happily. "How ya been?" 

"Good, Mrs Hyerdahl…" 

"Good, good. We haven't seen each other in such a long time. You must come over for dinner again soon! And bring your mom's recipe for that superb chocolate cake of hers!" 

"No problem." He grinned. He stepped aside and let her walk to her car. "You need some help with your luggage?" 

"Nah, I'm fine." She put her suitcases in the back of the trunk. "Phoebe will be out in a sec. So, you just hold your horses, k?" 

Then Mr Hyerdahl came out the door. "Hello Gerald." 

"Hi Mr Hyerdahl." Gerald smiled. "Hope you have fun on your trip." 

"Thank you. I hear you are doing well?" 

"Yes. Very well. And yourself, sir?" 

"Very good. Thank you." He walked to the car. 

Phoebe drew in a deep breath. It's now or never, she thought. She admired the way Gerald was so friendly with her parents and the way her parents liked him so much. It wasn't that she didn't like him – she loved him. But, he just couldn't show her that love. 

It was like kissing a tree. She'd say "I love you", but he'd say nothing else. Their relationship has been a long one, and it seemed as if it only began – both of them were acting more uncomfortably around each other. 

"Hi Gerald," said Pheobe with a weak smile on her face. 

"Pheobe. Hi," said Gerald, kissing her briefly on the lips. "Glad I caught you before you left for the airport." 

"Me too." She nodded. Before Gerald could say anything else, she drew in a deep breath and let out a heavy sigh. "Gerald – I really can't bear this feeling any longer…I'm afraid we are drifting further and further apart from each other." She bit her lower lip and gripped onto her suitcase tightly. 

Gerald gulped and gripped the box in his pocket. 

She looked down. "I just don't feel the passion anymore. It's too hard being with you. It's like I'm sharing dates with – with a tree or something. And unless there's any change from you - " 

"I knew this was coming," he admitted. He lowered his head too. "If you really feel that way – then…" 

"It's over?" she sighed softly. He nodded. Then she nodded. She didn't want it to happen this way – she wanted him to suddenly say that he loves her and that he didn't want to let her go…

"There's so much more out there for you. I don't want to hold you back." He had never felt so crushed before. "There are guys so much better for you…" 

He put his hand on her shoulder and gave her a last kiss on her cheek. "Have fun in Japan," he said, walking away. 

"Bye Gerald," she muttered. "I'll miss you." 

She felt her insides tear apart – it felt as if there was a razor shredding her heart into strands. Never before has she felt this badly before. Never. 

***

(New Year's Eve)

Helga and Bob sat around the living room as usual on their New Year's Eve. There was a big bowl of porkrinds, cheetos, ruffles, and dip. Helga was lying on her stomach, and Bob was reclined in his big leather chair. Miriam walked down the stairs and down the hall. 

"Bye you guys!" she said happily. 

"Bye?" Helga repeated, sitting up and facing Miriam who just stood at the other side of the living room. "Where are you going?" 

"Better be going to get us some more Yahoo sodas," Bob grunted. 

"I'm going to a, uh, friend's house. Yes. A friend's house," she said. 

"A friend's house?" Helga repeated. "On New Year's eve?" 

"Yes." 

"You have friends?" Helga said again. 

"Wait – what about this whole family time crap you've been griping about?" Bob complained. 

"Oh well. Must've slipped my mind. I really can't break this date. So, why don't you two just have fun together? Hm?" 

"You're really going?" Helga asked with utter shock and amazement. 

"Yep. You two have fun now, k?" 

"Damnit Miriam!" Bob stood up angrily. "I can't take your sudden disappearances! You're never home anymore! Nothing in this fucking house is in order! What the hell could you be doing?" 

"Since when have you ever cared about me, huh?" Miriam pointed a finger at him. 

"You're never here, Miriam. No one can make any more food…" 

"Is that the only reason you need me? To wash your clothes and fix your dinners?" She gave him a cold look and shook her head. "I've had enough of you. I'm leaving and you can't stop me." She stomped out of the door and slammed it behind her. 

For a while, Helga really thought Bob and Miriam had changed – they were all happy together – and lovey dovey. But then Miriam began to put on a nightly disappearing act and came home at odd hours. Things are screwy. Helga didn't have a clue what was going on – and usually she was the skew one in the family. 

Bob – filled with anger – went to the kitchen. Helga silently followed him in and watched him open up a bottle of beer and gulp it down. He took the rest of the 12-pack with him. 

"This is crap," he mumbled. "Pure c-r-a-p. I took time off work to be in this crap-hole. I could be in the office getting ready for the annual New Year sale. Damn Miriam…screwing my day up…" 

Helga just stared at his eccentric behavior as he sat in front of the TV. "Dad," she said softly. 

"Shut up Olga." 

"Helga, Dad." 

He looked at her with furious eyes and threw the remot at her, hitting her head. "I don't need any bullshit from you. Now go upstairs and stay the hell away from me." 

Helga didn't need any words to express her hatred. Her eyes filled with hot tears, and her insides raged with fury. Angrily, she walked out of the door with her winter coat on. Luckily, there wasn't a lot of snow left over and it was a cool 38ºF. 

"Helga? What are you doing at my house?" Arnold asked in surprise, opening the door on the dark New Years eve. Helga was the last person on earth he'd expect outside his door. 

"I – I just had no where else to go. Phoebe's out of town, and – and…" she tried hard not to cry, but the tears flooded from her eyes. 

"Come in," he said urgently. "So, what happened?" He put his hand on the small of her back and led her to the living room. They sat down on a large brown couch.  

"It's just Miriam is gone and Bob is acting all psycho. I – I can't bear to stay there in that hell hole. Who ever knew life could get so screwed up?" She curled up into a ball, sobbing. "Plus my head hurts…" 

Arnold instinctly put his arms around her and held her tightly. "It's okay, Helga. Just spend New Years with me. Yeah? We can make things better." 

She nodded as she pressed her forehead on his chest – crying. "I know that I said I didn't care about my family before, but I do. I really do care. It's hard not to…" 

"I know, Helga." Arnold patted her on the back, and stroked her hair. "I know. It's okay." 

She drew in a shaky deep breath and let it out. 

"Are you hungry? Do you want some chips? A sandwich?" 

"I'm fine." Her breath slowly steadied. She lifted up her head and sniffed. 

"That's better," Arnold grinned, touching her pink cheeks. "That's the Helga Pataki that I grew up with…" 

"Arnold," she said. 

"Yeah?" 

"Can we please not tell anyone about me crying?" 

"Sure." He smiled. "My lips are sealed." 

"Thanks." She smiled too and wiped a tear off her cheek. 

"Now let's go get some bottles of apple cider and sit in front of the TV until next year," he chuckled. "Sound like a good idea to you?" 

Helga just nodded. 

"Good. Come on," he got up from the couch and pulled her up with him. Their faces were just inches apart – he could feel her breath on his chin. Quickly, he turned away without giving it a second thought. 

Helga looked down at her feet and sniffed again. Damn, she thought. You got so close, Helga…so close. 

***

"Good morning, Phoebe. I brought you some tea," said Mrs Hyerdahl, placing a tray on the table next to Phoebe's bed. 

"Thank you," Pheobe said softly, taking a sip of her green tea. She was sitting on the edge of her bed, with her legs crossed, looking down sadly. 

Her mother rubbed her back with her hand and sat down next to her. "Don't be sad, dear. Break ups are a way of life." 

Pheobe nodded. "Yes, I know. But, I can't help but feel bad. Every day on this trip I've felt bad. I'm supposed to be feeling good! I mean, we're in Japan! WHY DON'T I FEEL GOOD?" 

"Well, Dear, have you ever considered that, maybe, you could still have feelings for Gerald?" 

"Of course not." Phoebe looked away. "If I did, why would I break up with him?" 

"I don't know. Love is funny like that sometimes." 

"Ha!" Phoebe scoffed. "Love. Love is when two people can actually say 'I love you' without gagging and actually mean it. And not get cold feet. When you love someone, nothing holds you back from telling them…" 

"It's not that way for everyone, Phoebe. It's not like the movies, ya know." 

Phoebe sighed. 

"When your father and I were get'n married, he had the coldest feet ever. He didn't even look at me, he didn't even say anything to me until the middle of the reception." 

"Really?" 

"Yes really. But I didn't think that he didn't love me. Of course I knew he loved me – not because he told me before, but because when two people do care about each other the way they're supposed to – you often don't need words." 

"Oh I wish you could have told me this earlier, Mother." Phoebe fell back on the bed and groaned. "I feel like such a fool." 

"Well, love often feels like that too." She patted her leg and got up, took the tray, and walked out of the room. 

Phoebe took her pillow and covered her face as she screamed and kicked her feet. When she was done, she threw the pillow at the opposite wall. "Stupid, stupid, stupid…" 

"Sure Phoebe, you can solve chemical equations and memorize pi to a hundred decimal places…but you can't get yourself to think logically in love." She sighed and shut her eyes. 

***

Helga woke up on the couch the next morning. She yawned and stretched out her arms and noticed Arnold still asleep on the floor, hugging a pillow. She chuckled softly and looked at her wrist watch. 8:00. "Happy new year," she muttered. 

She got up and scratched her head, yawning again. Then she walked to the bathroom upstairs. She opened the door and almost fainted of shock. "Oh my God," she mumbled, quickly crouching on the floor. 

There Grandma was – lying there on the floor with her bathrobe on. "Oh no, oh no," Helga groaned. She put two fingers under her jawline and felt a pulse. Luckily Helga took First Aid classes before. With two of her hands, she began to press down on Grandma's chest. "Someone!" Helga shouted, "anyone! Help!" 

Arnold showed motions of being awake and rubbed his eyes. 

"Someone in this house WAKE UP!" Helga shouted at the top of her lungs. 

"Helga?" Arnold grunted. He looked around. "Helga," he shouted, "where are you?" 

"In the bathroom," she replied. 

Arnold quickly raced up to the bathroom to find her and his grandma on the floor. "Oh my…" 

"Hurry – call 9-1-1," Helga said. "Hurry." 

Arnold rushed to the phone and dialed the numbers on the phone. Soon enough, the loud sirens came and Grandma was carried away in a stretcher. Grandpa came home with a look of bewilderment. He left her for only 10 minutes, and so much has happened. 

Helga had no choice but to go home. There was not much else she could do. Arnold and Grandpa went to the hospital with the ambulence. They would probably stay in the hospital for most of the day. Perhaps even most of the week. She decided that she'd just go home and cause some harm there. 

She walked out the door, taking her jacket off the rack. Close by, she heard noises in the basketball court nearby. Curiously, she walked towards the courts. Who's crazy enough to play basketball in this cold? She thought. She stopped to see Gerald, throwing balls angrily at the hoop. Figures. 

She leaned against the fence and chuckled. "What are you doing out here, Geraldo?" 

He turned around and held the ball next to his body. "Helga? What are you doing here?" 

"I think I asked you that question first," she said. 

"Well, I guess I'm here to let out a little steam. Life sucks," he groaned, and threw the basketball at the hoop again – probably purposely missing it. 

"Tell me about it," Helga replied under her breath. 

"You don't live around this street. Why would anyone come all the way out here when it's the new year?" He dribbled the ball between his legs. 

"Hey, it's a free country, am I right?" Helga snapped, "and besides, why do you get an OK to come here?" 

"Because I actually play the game," he said, taking another shot, and obviously making it in. He groaned and picked up the stray ball, and fell on the ground.  

Helga walked over to him and sat down. "I'm sorry about you and Phoebe," she said softly. 

"How'd you know? Not even Arnold knows." 

"I guess, because, Phoebe told me. Actually, she'd been planning it for a while," Helga said reluctantly. 

"She'd been planning it?!" He gawked at her. 

Helga merely nodded. "She just couldn't take it anymore. She couldn't handle that you wouldn't tell her you love her. Just public displays of affection isn't enough. Girls want more than that." 

Gerald sat up, leaning back on his arms. "I was stupid." 

"You and every other guy in this city, buck-o." 

"I have to find a way to get her back. I just have to…" 

"Don't try too hard there. From my experiences, I've learned that if fate wants you two back together, you two will get back together…do you believe in fate?" 

Gerald looked up at the sky and thought for a second. "Yeah, I guess." 

"Well, then just let fate take its course." She smiled, holding a jacket closer around her frozen body. "I can't believe you're out in freezing weather playing basketball." 

Gerald shrugged. 

"I'm going to get going now," said Helga, getting up. "Have fun freezing to death." With that, she walked away. 

She trotted through the melting snow and saw a bright red car drive past her. Inside, though she only caught a glimpse, she could have sworn she saw Miriam sitting next to the driver, going the opposite of their house. Helga decided to follow her, just for kicks. Well, also because she was curious. 

Time to play secret agent, she thought. 

Helga ran behind a shop and peered out from the corner to see the car stopped at the red light. This gave her time to sneek up on their car. Luckily this traffic light was the busted one that waited ten minutes to turn green. Helga inconspiciously snuk up behind the car and looked in through the back window.  

It wasn't a pretty sight. 

"It can't be," she muttered. "Miriam doesn't do this kind of thing…" 

Then the light turned green and the red car raced off. 

Helga was left with her mouth wide open – staring in confusion. 

A/N: Hope you ENJOYED…please r/r! 


	4. Don't Speak

**A/n:** please excuse any spelling/grammatical errors.

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**Chapter Four: Don't Speak**

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The day was cool, being the beginning of January. School had started again to the students' dismay. Nothing was normal anymore. So many things have changed. Gerald and Pheobe were no longer the cutest couple in school, Arnold was no longer his happy-go-lucky self, and Helga – well – Helga wrote angry notes in her binder.

Arnold went through his days very wearily. Grandma, he found out, had a stroke. She was old and very tired, and doctors wanted to keep her in the hospital longer.

"Hey. Helga," he said after school, when he was finally able to catch up to Helga in the busy school day.

Helga stopped and turned around, not being able to look him in the eye. She had not done anything bad. She just couldn't bare to see the pain that dwelled in his eyes. His sadness made her grieve in pain. His emotions were transposed to her own soul .

"Hi Arnold."

"I just wanted to say thanks. I never found the chance to say it. But, thanks." He met his eyes with hers. She looked away, unable to see the dark bags surrounding his eyes, or the redness which colored the white. "So, here." He handed her a small box. "I was going to give it to you earlier."

She opened the box. Inside there was a folded up note that said Merry Christmas. She took it out and saw a pink and purple crystal bracelet.

"Oh gee," said Helga. "This is very nice of you. Thanks."

There was an awkward silence and finally Arnold said something. "I guess I'll see you later."

"Yeah…yeah," Helga uttered. "I guess so."

Arnold walked away and Helga stayed in her same place, standing, staring off into nothing. Then she realized Phoebe standing next to her.

"Hi Helga," muttered Phoebe. "I'm glad I finally caught you."

"Hi Phebes," Helga replied. "I haven't seen you in a while. How's your first day of school?"

"It's not too great, actually. And you?"

Helga just shrugged. "It was…flat."

Gerald walked by and chills ran down Phoebe's spine. He stopped for a minute and greeted the two girls. "Hi Helga," he said. "Hi Phoebe," he croaked. It was different to just see her in the hall and not take her hand. He missed it when he could jump up behind her and kiss her cheek. What a fool he was.

"Er, I think I should go," murmered Phoebe. "I promised my mom that I would help her clean out the garage." Quickly, she walked away, fully avoiding Gerald.

When she left his eyesight he gave a large sigh. "What am I going to do, Helga?"

"Are you asking me for advice?" she asked in disbelief. "Because, you know that I am not good with advice. I can't give you advice…I can't even give myself advice."

"Yeah, but," he began.

"No!" She put her palm in front of his face. "Don't even ask me for advice. I don't do that. If you want advice, go to Arnold."

"But…"

"I'm not listening!" Helga said loudly, walking away from Gerald.

"Hi Helga!" shouted an enthusiastic voice from the kitchen.

"Hello Miriam," mumbled Helga. She dropped her backpack on the floor and walked miserably to the kitchen.

"You don't look too hot," she said with sympathy. "Want a smoothie?"

"No. Thanks." She glanced at Miriam who had on make up. Make up! To think, this usually drunken, drowsy woman suddenly turned into some strange woman who happily made nonalcoholic smoothies and put on Maybelline lipstick.

Helga looked her up and down. "What are you all dressed up for?"

Miriam smiled happily and shrugged. "No particular reason, hon. I just want to feel good." She jumped out of her chair and glanced at the clock on the wall.

"You're going out again, aren't you?"

"Oh, don't be such a prude about it, Helga." She walked up to her daugher and pinched her cheeks. "You should be happier." And she squeezed Helga's cheeks together.

Helga crossed her arms across her chest. She wanted to bust the news on Miriam. All she wanted was to tell her, "Miriam. I know you're up to something…I saw you with some guy. TELL ME WHAT'S GOING ON!" It was burning inside, she was itching to say something. But then suddenly the bell rang.

"I'll get it!" Miriam chirped.

Helga raised her eyebrow.

"Oh my God!" Miriam exclaimed. Helga quickly walked out of the kitchen to the hallway and saw Miriam holding a large bouquet of red roses. "These are gorgeous."

"Who did you get them from?" Helga asked casually.

"I think I've got a good idea," she said, inhaling the aroma of the flowers. She found a card in the middle of the roses and took it out. After reading it, she held it against her chest and grinned.

"So…who's it from?" Helga asked again.

"An old friend of mine. She's in town and wanted to thank me for letting her use our bathroom one day." Miriam smiled.

"Sure, Miriam. Well, aren't you going to put them in some water? In a nice vase?"

"Yes, I think I will. I'll put them in the kitchen."

"Why not in the living room?"

"Just because, darling. Just because."

Helga knew why. Big Bob wasn't always the sharpest tool in the shed. Though, Helga would bet a hundred dollars that if he saw those roses, he would get suspicious. Then he would ask Miriam. Miriam would lie. Then he would ask Helga. Helga certainly couldn't tell him anything. Then, of course, he'd get frustrated and yell.

Helga followed Miriam into the kitchen. She had already put the flowers into a nice glass vase and was smelling and touching them again. Helga sighed. She liked seeing Miriam happy. But, she hated the fact that Miriam was seeing someone other than her father on holidays and Saturday nights.

"Miriam," said Helga.

"Mmh?"

"I think I know what's going on with you." Helga crossed her arms across her chest.

"What do you mean?" she laughed. "Nothing's going on with me."

"I saw. I saw you in that red car with a man with blond hair."

Miriam stopped her movements and stood up straight. "I don't know what you're talking about, Helga."

"Don't deny it. I saw you. I saw you."

"He's just a friend…there's nothing…"

"MOM! You know what you're saying is a lie! I know it, you know it. So why don't you just cut the crap? Tell me the truth." Helga looked at her mother very urgently.

"The truth is…" she began.

"MIRIAM!" a loud voice shouted.

"Here, B!" She called back.

In came Bob with a sad puppy smile. "Ya know, I've been thinking, Miriam. And I realized that lately we've been as good to each other as dogs and cats. I just wanted to officially apologize. I do care." Then from behind his back he presented her with a single red rose.

"Oh wow," Miriam said, quite flattered. "That's very sweet."

Then he caught glimpse of the dozen red roses already in a vase on the counter. Helga recognized the pain he felt suddenly. She didn't know if he knew or not; but she didn't want to ask.

"Nice roses ya got there," Bob gulped. "Where the hell did you get them?"

"Actually," interjected Helga, "they're mine. Arnold gave them to me."

"Oh." He said, a little relieved. The whiteness of Miriam's face drained.

"Yep. They're pretty, aren't they? Well, I have to go do homework now." Helga ran off.

Arnold sat solemnly next to his grandmother. He couldn't bear to look at the tubes going through her body. It sent deadly chills down his spine. He just wanted to hit a wall or yell into a pillow.

Grandpa came in and tapped Arnold on the shoulder. "Hey shortman, I brought you some food to eat. It's not bad, actually, this cafeteria food. I got you juice, a hot dog…"

"No thanks, Grandpa," said Arnold. "I'm not hungry."

"Well, more for me then. I guess."

Grandpa released a heavy sigh and put the tray of food on a table and pulled a chair up next to Arnold. "Don't worry so much, Arnold. You'll get wrinkles. Then you'll end up looking like me, and no girl will like you besides your grandma."

Arnold refused to laugh. He just looked away. "How can you joke? Aren't you in pain right now?"

Grandpa nodded. "Of course I am. But we can't sulk forever. The doc said she's getting better. Soon she'll be up and chasing cats again."

"What're going to happen to your tickets to Rome?"

"I'm just going to keep them."

"But what about Grandma?"

"She's a strong one. She'll probably be able to have fun and frolick by then." He looked at his poor grandson, still doubting the words he just said. He put his hand on Arnold's shoulder and rubbed it hardily. "Trust me. Now you stop worrying and get on home. Stop coming here. Go drink and eat greasy foods with your friends."

Arnold released a heavy sigh. "I guess I should."

"I mean, honestly. You've the darkest bags under your eyes. I never knew they could be so dark," Grandpa joked. "Now go on and get."

Arnold got up and saluted Grandpa, with his backpack hanging from his right shoulder. He walked out to the sound of his baggy jeans rustling together. He groaned to see so many families walking to see their sick friends and family.

While Arnold walked home, he dragged his feet on the ground. He held his coat closer to his body and shivered. The melting snow soaked the bottom of his pants, and he wished that he didn't decide to walk everywhere. He walked towards Helga's house. He stopped in front of her door steps and looked up.

Then boldly decided to walk up to the door and ring the doorbell. Why? He wasn't really sure.

"Arnold?"

"Hi Helga," Arnold said quite casually. He was very surprised with himself.

"What are you doing here?"

"I was just around the neighborhood, and I thought, well, actually I thought of nothing. But, what I was trying to say is that I just wanted to…" he murmered.

"Right. I'll just pretend I know exactly what you mean."

There was an awkward silence.

"So," Helga's words slurred together, "would you like to come in?"

Without any hesitation, Arnold said, "Yes."

Helga stepped aside, and Arnold walked inside her house, remembering to wipe off his feet on the door mat. He unraveled his scarf around his neck and tossed it on the coat rack. He decided to keep his coat on for security.

"You want to have some hot chocolate or something?"

"Sure. I'd like that."

He followed her into the kitchen where they bumped saw Big Bob fixing himself a sandwich. Helga went through the fridge and took out some milk and then went through the cupboard and looked for the hot chocolate mix. Arnold stood in his place quietly and felt a need to say something. He cleared his throat.

"Hello Mr. Pataki."

Bob grunted and looked up, unaware that anyone else was in the same room as him. "Who are you?"

"It's Arnold, Bob." Helga sighed.

"Oh. The guy with the flowers…" Bob glanced at the vase of roses on the counter.

Helga took the hot milk out of the microwave in shock. She had forgotten about her little white lie about the roses. Please don't say anything, please don't say anything, she prayed silently to herself as she quickly poured in the mix and stirred.

"The flowers…?" Arnold repeated.

Before Bob could say anything, Helga interrupted. "Oh Arnold, don't be silly. You remember. The flowers! The roses…remember?" she chuckled softly, handing him his hot chocolate.

"Oh. Yes, of course. Those roses."

"Okay, well, let's go." She took his wrist in her hand and darted up the stairs.

In they went into her bedroom and she closed the door behind her.

"What's this all about, Helga?" Arnold asked, concerned. He took a sip of his hot chocolate and opened his mouth, waving his hand in front of his mouth.

Helga paced around her room with her hands on her waist. "Nothing. Nothing at all."

Arnold shrugged and took another sip.

"FINE! It is something, Arnold." She threw her arms up in the air. "Miriam is cheating on Bob!"

Arnold nearly choked on his hot chocolate.

"Yeah, yeah! That's right. She is! I saw her…with this young blond Latin guy."

"Wait, wait, wait. Maybe you were mistaken, Helga. I mean, there are lots of blond guys."

"No," she said coldly, "I saw her kiss him." She looked away to the side and held her hand to her mouth.

Arnold put his drink down on her night stand and walked towards Helga. He put his hand on her shoulder and sighed with her.

"I never thought that I'd care so much about the family," Helga slightly chuckled. "I mean, really, I could care less. But, this just makes everything so sad. I mean, Miriam is weirder than ever and she's going out all the time. That's why I spent New Year's with you, Arnold. She's screwing everything up. I'm surprised Bob is too oblivious to even think she's up to something."

"It will be okay Helga," Arnold reassured her.

"I sure hope so." She let out a deep breath. "Don't think you're going to see me cry again, Football Head."

He laughed and suddenly kissed her on the top of her head. "I should get going."

Helga stood there, frozen. She nodded. "Help yourself out…" Just as Arnold was heading out of her bedroom, she asked, "er…Arnold, how's your grandma doing?"

"She's still hangin' in there. Thanks for the concern." He looked down, and pushed the door open. "Bye."

After she heard Arnold's footsteps go downstairs, she fell back on her bed. Deep breath in, deep breath out. In and out. She closed her eyes and thought about something pleasant. Mmmh…she imagined herself at a nice beach on a warm summer's day. She and Arnold together, sitting, making a sandcastle. Ah, good times.

"Hello Helga," said Miriam. Helga angrily opened her eyes and raised an eyebrow. "We need to talk," she smiled softly and sat down next to her daughter.

"No we don't."

"See, that man you may think I'm having an 'affair' with isn't who you think it is…"

"I know what I know, Miriam, and I know that you're seeing someone on the side."

"No, no, Helga. It's not like that. He's…he's simply my mother's cousin's daughter's step brother. I was merely being nice to him." She smiled, trying to play with Helga's hair.

Helga slapped Miriam's hand away. "Shut up. I'm not a little girl anymore. I know what's what. Just leave me alone." Helga rolled to lay on her left side, her back facing Miriam. "You can leave now. Don't worry, I won't tell Bob."

Miriam gulped and got up. "Well. I'll see you for dinner, then." She left the room.

A/N: Please r/r J


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